


The Pressure to Change (to mold the crucible)

by Reiya_Wakayama



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, It's a Trap!, Life Debt, Warring States Period (Naruto), angry children forced to work together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29327451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/pseuds/Reiya_Wakayama
Summary: The Senju and the Uchiha have been at war for generations, with neither side truly winning or remembering what actually sparked this feud. There are others though, who see this war as an opportunity to gain: land, power, influence. All it would take is the annihilation of two powerful clans. Good thing they’re already at war.A chance meeting? An unexpected predicament. A surprising solution.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Tobirama & Senju Touka, Uchiha Izuna & Uchiha Madara
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	The Pressure to Change (to mold the crucible)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on a bit of a Tobirama kick right now and this little idea popped into my head and I quickly wrote it out.
> 
> The idea is what would happen if they were forced to work together to get out of a tight spot.
> 
> Also, Izuna and Tobirama are around 19/20 in the beginning, 4-5 years before Tobirama would have killed Izuna in canon.

The shadows are thick as he slips from one to the next, inching slowly down the faintly lit tunnel. It’s taken the better part of the night and two near discoveries to reach this level of the castle, deep in the bowels of the earth. He about ready to be done with this job and he hasn’t even reached the vault he’s supposed to be breaking into.

Tobirama sighs in aggravation, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple before pressing onward, testing each step and listening for any approaching steps of guards deviating from their patrol routes. So far, he hasn’t run into any this far down, not that he can tell very accurately. Something in the stone of this place seems to muffle his sensing, limiting how far he can feel out, which is normally quite far.

Perhaps it is a natural phenomenon of rock formations? Or perhaps well placed seals or wards to prevent such abilities from tracking guard patrols? He hadn’t noticed anything like that on his scouting of the castle. Then again, he didn’t have as much time as he wold like to thoroughly check everything like he normally would. Their client has placed a time limit on this mission and Butsuma, their illustrious leader, had agreed.

To be fair, this job was originally meant for Hashirama. His brother had been all but ready to go when word had reached them of the Uchiha being enlisted by the Fuuma Clan and their rivals, the Hagoromo, wanted to hire the Senju to combat them. Butsuma, not wanting to be deprived of his firstborn on the battle field, had passed it onto him. Reluctantly, he had taken the job and found Touka to warn her of Izuna’s abilities and what to watch out for since she would be second strongest after his Anija. She had just grinned wickedly, red painted lips casting her in a very sinister light. He had shaken his head fondly at her, knowing full well what she was like on the battle field. Izuna didn’t know what was coming for him.

Finally, he reaches the end of the tunnel and the black iron door that rests there. According to the information he was able to acquire beforehand, this should lead to the natural tunnels beneath the castle and to the sealed vault that rests there.

Quietly pulling out his lock picks, he goes to pick the lock, one ear cocked for approaching footsteps, when the door creaks softly and pushes inward…unlocked. The likelihood of a guard leaving it unlocked is slim. The probability that there is someone else breaking in at the same time as him is also slim, but still higher.

Sighing softly in annoyance, he pushes the door open a little wider and slips through, keeping his back to the smooth wall of the water eroded tunnel. He breathes deep and can taste moisture, stone and the faint acrid tang of slowly dissolving rock. A quick hand to the wall finds moisture beading there: a water source?

The tunnels are pitch dark down here, no torches to light the way. A small metal basket sits off to the side, unlit torches resting in it. Ignoring them, he presses forward, one hand against the wall to help guide him as he moves on silent feet.

The dampening of his senses is worse down here, increasing evidence of localized anomaly. It is an interesting phenomenon and he would like to study it later but right now, it makes his skin crawl not being able to sense much further than twenty meters in any direction when before he could sense all the way to Uzushio if he focused hard enough.

The tunnel begins to curve downward and he frowns, not liking being so far beneath the earth. Anything could happen down here and no one would hear. Of course, that also is in his favor should he make too much noise in breaking into the vault.

Breathing slowly and evenly, he keeps going, ignoring the feeling of being weighed down by stone. Earth has never been his friend, not like the water he calls so easily and he takes comfort in the moisture in the air around him.

He feels the space around him open up as the tunnel widens and in the distance, a faint light refracts off of wet stone, the first bit of light he’s seen since entering these tunnels. It shifts, growing fainter as it moves away and he freezes. Either there’s a guard down here making an unexpected patrol or someone else has broken into these tunnels as well. His red eyes narrow, he doesn’t believe in coincidences.

Creeping along, he follows the faint gleam, keeping his distance as the tunnel levels out and heads in more or less the same direction, shifting only slightly on its path. How far away is this vault? It feels like he’s traveled far enough to have left the circumference of the castle’s outer walls.

There’s a faint scuff of two different materials sliding against each other and the light stops. Creeping closer, he glances around the edge, keeping to the thickest shadows and sees a figure standing next to a lit torch placed in a holder next to a large door: the vault door.

The light casts the figure in shadow, but the silhouette is enough to confirm that this is not a guard. The clothing is tight to a muscular male body. They move with the confidence and grace of someone trained to fight and on feet as silent as his. He wants to bang his head against the wall in annoyance at having to fight someone, another shinobi, over something so trivial as gold. Yes, he understands the inherent value in the precious metal but he has no use for it except as a means to purchase what he needs to survive.

That people feel the need to hoard it and drape it upon their person is something he has always seen as wasteful and irrational. Gold will not keep him warm in winter, nor feed his belly, so why hoard it to such an excess? Better to spend it to better serve the clan as a whole. An opinion he is well aware few hold to, especially Butsuma, though he at least does not feel the need to display their clan’s wealth.

Grinding his teeth, he waits and watches the figure pull out lock picks and begin to open the vault. At least he won’t have to waste his own time opening that door. Minutes pass before, with a faint huff of triumph, the soft click of the lock turning over echoes faintly through the tunnel.

Grunting with effort, the figure grips the handle on the door and pulls the heavy metal open. He adds above average strength to his mental list of the man’s abilities. The chakra of the figure is dampened to hide him from sensors and with the natural dampening of the rock around him; he can’t get any read off of them.

They disappear through the door, taking the torch with them, and leaving the door slightly ajar. He follows on silent steps, keeping to the shadows as best he can, avoiding heading straight for the opening, least the man ahead look back and see his approach.

Stopping right by the door, he listens hard, but the door is thick and any sound they might make is not loud enough to carry to him. Sighing softly, he braces himself and peeks around the door’s edge but the man isn’t in sight. As quickly as he can without making a sound, he slips in and moves to the right, letting the shadows consume him as he looks around.

The cave he is in is large, the space around him feeling empty and echoing. Large stalagmites and stalactites protrude from the roof and floor, blocking off his line of sight of the distant bobbing light. Maybe he can avoid the figure and find what he needs without having to come to conflict. It’s possible they are here for different things.

The staff he is after should hopefully not be too hard to find. The sketches he had been shown showed an intricate shakujo cast in gold and embedded with jewels. Supposedly, it had belonged to the Sage of the Six Paths, but he highly doubts it is the Sage’s. While he doesn’t know much of the myth aside from the few stories he learned as a child when studying history, he does recall the man preached peace and a staff of hoarded wealth is not the way to peace, despite what many noble clans might say.

But still, it’s not his concern what someone thinks to do with such a staff. His only job is to retrieve it and take it to the meeting point on the Senju’s western border at the border town there. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he tracks the light and makes for the opposite direction.

It is hard to see much without a light source, but even the distant light helps in figuring out quickly that there is something wrong here. This vault, where the Kaichu Clan’s head kept his most valuable items and his hoard of gold, is filled with…well nothing.

Even in the low light, all he can see is rock columns and empty places where something might have sat. Moving deeper, thinking maybe they kept things away from the door, he finds more of the same. He hears a faint curse as the light bearer comes to the same conclusion as him.

Why have a vault with nothing inside it? A ruse perhaps? It’s possible there is a secondary vault hidden elsewhere and this vault with its grandiose door is simply a means to thwart would-be thieves, such as the two currently in it.

He’s so distracted by his thoughts, trying to figure out where this secondary vault it, that he’s taken by surprise when the light suddenly comes much closer. He reacts too slowly, trying to keep to the shadows and is caught by the edge of the light. There’s a soft exclamation of surprise as eyes lock onto him and he dives out of the way of a kunai’s path, the metal embedding into the stone.

Bringing up his tanto, he deflects another, jumping back as a dart of fire aims for him, lighting up the damning evidence of nothing in this cavern. He’s just readying to throw caution to the wind and release one of his own jutsus when the unmistakable sound of the vault door closing reverberates around them.

They both pause in their attack, looking towards the sound when he feels a pulse of chakra beneath their feet. He pushes chakra to his feet; the other man following suit, as suddenly the floor begins to crumple beneath them.

Jumping as high as he can, he reaches desperately for one of the hanging stalactites above, chakra coiled around his hands to grip the slippery stone. He hangs there, panting and looks over to see the other man has done the same, hanging by his hands.

There’s a second pulse and with a start, he looks up to see cracks forming above him and with a sinking heart, he realizes the trap he has fallen into. He lets go a second before his stalactite disconnects from its base, dropping silently and drawing chakra to his legs to soften his landing. Distantly, he can see the other is falling with him and down below, the distant glimmer of the torch that was dropped in their fighting.

With a quick flurry of seals, he pulls the water from the air to him, sending it down to pool beneath them and soften their impacts. Two mighty splashes resound as they hit and he clamps his jaw tight to keep his air from escaping as he lets the jutsu go and the water slides away, leaving them on the bottom of the pit they’ve fallen into.

The other is hacking, not having been expecting the water and inhaling water in his surprise. The torch is out from the water and he can’t see very well in the darkness. He blinks as light approaches the edge of what he realizes is the lip of the pit they’re in.

A shadowed figure looks down at them and before he can even begin to make any seals, they move back, a sharp burst of chakra releasing from them and he can only stare up in dawning horror as the seals hidden in the roof flare again, larger cracks appearing in the stone. One last flash and the stones begin to fall.

With no time to think, he runs through seals faster than he’s ever done before, drawing on the water still puddled around them and pushes it up, wrapping it around the falling stones and clenches his fists, feeling the air temperature around them drop suddenly as he freezes the water wrapped stones.

But he feels more falling with each second, piling on top of the ones he’s holding and he wavers. It’s too much weight, his jutsu barely holding it back and he can’t hold it for much longer. A gasp of pain as the pressure becomes too much and he’s forced to let it go.

Stones rain down towards them and he braces for the impact when the ground shakes, large columns of stone shooting up from the floor and out from the walls, catching and bracing the larger stones, though they don’t stop the smaller projectiles from plummeting, one striking him sharply in the temple. White blooms in the darkness as he staggers but braces against the wall and wills his hands to move, calling his water up once more and pressing it up again, bracing the stones as they settle, stopping more stones from falling.

Silence descends as they brace for the stones to keep falling but with a few rumbling grinds, the stones settle above them. He suddenly realizes how loud his breathing is, panicked gasps echoing around them and he slows his breathing.

Slowly, a little bit at a time, he draws the water away, listening to the stone settle but nothing shifts alarmingly and as the last trickle of water drops back down, depositing the smaller stones it had collected in a clatter, he slumps back against a wall.

His limbs tremble with adrenaline and fatigue. He’s not depleted of chakra but the amount he had pressed into his jutsus has left him feeling lightheaded and shaky. Slowly getting his body under control, he blinks as light suddenly blooms in the darkness, a flame flickering in the other’s hand.

With a blink, he finally pays attention to his clamoring senses, telling him in no uncertain terms, that he knows this chakra signature. He’s fought him enough times to recognize it in his sleep and miles away. Blinking against the brightness, he stares at Uchiha Izuna and wonders what gods are laughing at him for planning such a situation.

~*~

Izuna coughs, clearing water and dust from his lungs as he pulls off his mask, grimacing at the feeling of wet fabric. The flame in his hand flickers softly as he takes in the second figure staring at him. At first, he thinks it’s the flames casting the man’s eyes red before with dawning horror, he realizes that no, it’s not the light.

Slowly, gloved hands come up to pull at a similar mask and hood, pale skin stripped with red markings being exposed under the fire light. Senju Tobirama stares at him from across the way, blood matting the side of his face where something struck him.

He looks just as shocked at who he’s currently trapped with in a pit beneath a mountain of stone. He wants to break something, preferable whoever trapped them down here, but he wouldn’t mind turning his wrath onto his father who gave him this cursed mission in the first place.

“Senju,” he mutters in annoyance.

“Uchiha,” the paler man says back.

“What god did I piss off to get me stuck in here with you?” he grumbles, shifting to put his back to stone walls and slides down, keeping the light up.

Tobirama just shrugs, not bothering to answer as he begins to probe gently at the wound at his temple. Feeding a little more chakra to his flame to make it brighter, he holds it up to get a better idea of what their space looks like. The stone pillars he’d managed to call up are still holding and gods is he glad he badgered Hikaku into teaching him that particular jutsu. The pit is mostly smooth stone walls, about fifteen meters from one end to the other and not a perfect circle. The stones resting haphazardly above are maybe ten meters at their highest point.

He has no idea how far down they are in this pit, let alone how far under the damn castle they are. Well, they’re well and truly fucked unless they can figure out how to get out of this. He glances over at Tobirama and the other is watching him back, one hand holding a bit of clothe to his temple to stem the flow of blood.

“Well,” he demands in annoyance.

“Well what?” he asks flatly, red eyes squinting at him. With his Sharingan still activated, he can see the man’s pupils are blown wide and while he’s not meeting Izuna’s gaze, it seems faintly unfocused. A concussion maybe?

“Any insight from that damn brain of yours would be helpful,” he grumbles.

“We’re under too much stone to shift, under even more after that, and I can’t sense a damn thing,” he grits back, wincing faintly.

“Wait, you can’t sense anything?” he asks, forgetting to layer his words with annoyance.

“Something about this location or the stone itself, it’s blocking me. I can only sense what’s in this little pocket of air,” he admits reluctantly.

At the mention of air, Izuna grimaces. They’re going to run out of air if they don’t figure out how to get out of here or at least a way to create a tunnel up above to allow air down here. “Fuck,” he mutters, slumping back against the wall.

Silence settles over them, only broken by their faint breathing as they wrack their minds to figure out a way out of here. Rubbing at his forehead, he goes over what jutsus he knows that might help. Most of what he knows are Katon, fire his primary element but he does know a few Doton and Fuuton. A mental inventory of what he has on him doesn’t find much that would be useful except for food, and blankets to keep warm.

He’s hesitant to try and tunnel them out of here. He has no idea where they are, how much stone is above them and what might be around them, hidden in the earth. He does not want to tunnel into an underground river or into more traps hidden around this pit. And the possibility of bringing the stones above down on them if he messes with anything is not a happy thought.

“Anything?” he asks Tobirama, looking over and starts as he realizes the man is listing to the side, eyes unfocused. “Shit,” he hesitates a moment, because this is his enemy, but the man did save his life, even though he was only saving his own skin. He can put aside their status as enemies long enough to get out of this damn hole.

Grumbling under his breath, he walks closer to the man, telegraphing each step and movement he makes until he’s right in front of him. That he doesn’t seem to react is a bad thing. Waving the flames in front of his face, Tobirama’s eyes follow it slowly, but his pupils don’t contract as the light shifts. “How many fingers am I holding up?” he asks, raising two and the man squints, trying to focus.

He shakes his head but then seems to regret it. “Concussion,” he grits out.

“I figured as much,” Izuna grumbles, settling back on his heels and frowns. His first aid isn’t the greatest, but he knows enough about head wounds and concussions to know what not to do. Knows that head wounds always bleed heavily and that he should keep the man awake to make sure he doesn’t keel over from the trauma. “Do you know any iryo jutsus?” he asks finally. His control is not good enough to have learned any, though Megumi, the clan’s head healer had tried. The healer, after realizing he couldn’t use even the most basic jutsus had instead beat first aid into his head until it stuck.

“Some,” Tobirama admits, “Can’t focus enough to use them though.”

“Of course,” he mutters in frustration under his breath. “Well, looks like we’re stuck here for a while.” He stands with a huff, kicking in annoyance at one of the puddles that still linger around them, left over from Tobirama’s jutsu. He needs to keep the bastard awake, “Any idea who might have set us up?” he asks.

“This wasn’t meant for us,” he mutters, shifting to sit straighter, lips in a thin line as he fights nausea. Izuna lets out a questioning grunt, “My Anija was supposed to take this mission,” he explains.

“Madara as well,” he admits. He frowns, “This wouldn’t have stopped them. Not with Aniki’s abilities and Hashirama’s mokuton.”

Tobirama shrugs, “I never said it was well a thought out plan.”

Sighing in frustration, he walks back to his side of the pit and sits once more. Time seems to stretch as he tries to come up with a plan in the darkness, having put out his flame to conserve chakra. An hour passes, though it feels like longer when he speaks up, “You still alive over there?” he calls.

“Unfortunately,” comes Tobirama’s muttered reply, annoyance dripping from that one word.

“Excuse me for checking,” he mutters and settles back into silence. Time continues to drag with occasional words exchanged as he checks on the other man. “Any idea what time it is?” he asks, bored out of his mind. They can’t do anything until Tobirama can clear up his concussion but he’s bored out of his mind.

“Do I look like I know what time it is?” Tobirama snaps back.

Ignoring the man’s prickliness, he plows on, “It’s been a while since I left. It’s probably after the deadline at least. You think anyone will come looking for us?”

“I doubt it. Last I saw my clan, they were preparing to engage yours on the battlefield. It will be at least a full day before anyone remembers,” Tobirama reasons, the sound of cloth scraping stone giving sign to his resigned shrug.

They fall to silence again, Izuna drifting into a faint doze that doesn’t feel restful but at least lets him ignore the passing of time easier. Some unknown number of hours later, a sharp glow of chakra lights up their little bubble, the faint green glow giving evidence of it being an iryo jutsu. It lights up Tobirama’s face eerily, the green casting his pale skin into sickly tones. He grimaces as he focuses on the jutsu, holding his glowing hand to his temple.

The lines of pain on his face recede some as the concussion heals under his hand, though they don’t completely fade before the glow sputters out and they’re plunged back into darkness once more. “Better?” he ask with a huff.

“I’m functional,” he says back, that flat, emotionless tone back.

“Good, any idea how we can tunnel out of this pit without bringing the precariously balanced mountain of rock above us down?” he asks.

“I can’t sense far enough to see more than a few meters past the walls of this place,” he admits.

“Is it the rocks or something else?” he asks, trying to see if they can find a way around this.

“I was fine on the surface but as soon as I entered the lower floors of the castle, I began to feel my chakra sense dampening the further down I went,” he finally explains.

“So probably the stone, unless they placed dampening seals dozens of meters down just to block someone’s sensing for this stupid trap,” he grumbles. “Who hired you?” he asks.

“The job was through a middleman,” Tobirama says, the sound of his shifting indicating that he is standing up.

“Same,” Izuna mutters, knocking his head back lightly against the wall behind him, the slight pain helping to clear his mind a little. “Someone is trying to take out our clans,” he finally realizes.

“One would presume so, if they laid this large of a trap for our brothers. We were lucky to survive it,” Tobirama bites out. “Unfortunately, we have too many enemies to know who.”

“Any summons?” he asks hopefully.

“None that could get through this stone,” comes the tired reply.

“Damn,” he hits his head again. “I can tunnel us out of here, but I’d rather not go into this blind.”

Tobirama makes a thoughtful sound, sandal scuffing on the stone floor as he turns towards Izuna, “Perhaps we are going about this the wrong way.”

“How so?” Izuna asks.

“How fine is your control over your Doton?” he asks.

“Not very but I’ve never had to have fine control over it before,” he says with a shrug.

“I have the control but no skill with Doton,” he huffs. “Can you tunnel a small section at a time?” he asks.

“Perhaps, though it will use up my chakra faster with repeated uses,” he admits.

“I can sense a few meters ahead and we know in general which way is up. It will take significantly longer, but we could tunnel a section at a time until we reach the surface,” he proposes.

“The tunnel will need to be tight to keep my reserves from being depleted too quickly,” he reminds him.

“How tight?” he asks.

“A meter maybe,” he guesses. “Anything wider will be very taxing and not structurally sound without something to reinforce them.”

Tobirama is silent for a long minute, realizing just how close they will be in the limited space. He lets out a faint sigh, “So long as you don’t try and kill me until after we’ve gotten out of this trap, I won’t have a problem,” he finally says in lieu of anything better to say.

“Any idea which way the castle is? I’d hate to pop up inside it,” he huffs, standing with a stretch.

“Unfortunately, no,” he admits.

“Oh well, let’s pick a spot then,” Izuna says, walking towards Tobirama and the nearest wall. “Ready?” he asks.

“I’m ready to begin,” he affirms and steps forward, placing a hand on the wall and sensing out, “Nothing for a few meters in any direction,” he assures.

Running through a few seals, Izuna presses his hands to the stone and pushes, feeling the stone shifts and mold like heavy clay. He pushes inward slowly, keeping one ear on the stones above in case they start to shift. Finally, a few minutes later, a small tunnel is pressed into the stone. “I hope we hit earth soon or this is going to be a long trip,” he mutters, shifting slightly to let Tobirama close to the tunnel’s end to sense out the next chunk.

~*~

“Enough, we’ll take a short rest,” Tobirama mutters, placing a cautious hand on Izuna’s shoulder to still him. The Uchiha is panting heavily with exertion, the chakra needed to shift through stone much greater than that for earth. He’s tried steering them towards any earth patches he can sense, but so far, there haven’t been any in their path.

Izuna doesn’t even question him, just sucks in a sharp breath and settles back against the side of their tunnel. Pulling out his canteen, he presses it to him and gets a grunt in thanks, the man drawing heavily from it.

They haven’t made as much progress as he would like. Unfortunately, they don’t have the chakra reserves of their respective brothers and it’s taking its toll on them, Izuna especially. It’s taking every bit of his control to keep his panic at bay. He’s a shinobi and he will face this, no matter what, but he does not like being trapped in this tiny tunnel.

The crinkle of paper announces the unrolling of a scroll and a faint puff of displaced air announces a storage seal opening. “Here,” Izuna mutters, holding out a hand.

He takes what he’s holding and finds his canteen half full and a ration bar. “Thank you,” he murmurs. They eat in silence, breathing slowly to keep their breaths silent. The likelihood of anyone hearing them is slim to none, but long ingrained habits are hard to break.

“My guess if the Hagoromo,” Izuna speaks up finally.

“Your reasoning?” he asks, following his train of thought.

“I’ve no proof, but they’ve been pushing our borders for months now. Their new clan head is rather ambitious and is just waiting for an opening to take land from us,” he admits with a shrug.

“Would he be clever enough to devise this trap?” he asks, not having met with the new clan lord.

“Who knows, but I wouldn’t put it past him even if he isn’t. Someone’s got to have some brains in that clan for it to still be going after losing so many battles,” Izuna admits.

“I’ll withhold my judgement until we have better evidence,” he decides on. There are quite a few smaller clans around both the Uchiha and the Senju borders that would gain much if they took even one clan down, let alone two. Then a thought comes to him, “It is possible there is more than one clan behind this.”

“A temporary alliance?” Izuna questions.

“They help take out our clans than divide the spoils between them,” he says, following the thought to its end.

“Not a pretty picture you just painted. Enough smaller clans together would certainly be bad for either of our clans,” Izuna admits.

“Indeed,” he agrees with a grimace.

With a grunt, Izuna gets up, “Alright, let’s keep going,” and with a hum in agreement, Tobirama steps closer, pressing his hands to the stone to feel out.

~*~

“The dampening of my sensing is lessening,” Tobirama says two hours later.

“We must be nearing the surface,” Izuna huffs, sucking in gulps of air. His heart is hammering in his chest like he’s been running nonstop for a while and sweat beads on his brow, sliding down in lazy trails.

“Or have traveled far enough away from the localized anomaly to have started leaving the range of its influence,” the Senju agrees.

“Well, this should go by fast if you can sense further. Let’s keep going,” he grunts, shifting to pull at his chakra once again as the paler man reaches out to sense ahead of them.

“You can go three meters further than we have been. The way is clear,” Tobirama intones.

Grunting in understanding, he reaches out and pushes, molding the stone away and around them. This has certainly helped him get a better understanding of his control, though he’s probably going to lay off the Doton jutsus for a while. He’s had enough of this jutsu to last a life time.

Reaching the length stated, he lets the jutsu go and steps back for Tobirama to step forward, sensing the way ahead. “We’ll need to go straight up this time. The water source that carved the tunnels under the castle is just ahead and I’d rather not have to fight that on top of tunneling out,” Tobirama says drily.

“I thought you liked water,” he huffs, stepping up and reaching his hands up to touch roof of the tunnel. “I’m going to need a boost for the first part,” he adds.

Grunting in understanding, hands grip under his foot and wiry strength hefts him as he begins to push. When he finally has enough stone shifted to get his foot against the tunnel wall, he braces and keeps pushing, wedging his feet against it rather than using his diminished chakra to keep his grip. With a huff, he comes to a stop.

Awkwardly, Tobirama shifts to come up between his legs, sensing out, “Still up and an extra meter,” he adds and then shifts back down to allow him to keep going. His foot slips and a hand grips it, keeping him braced.

“Thanks,” he grunts out and then pushes again. Time drags on, the tunnel leveling out as they bypass the underground river and they stop for another break, drinking the last of the water and eating more ration bars.

“I believe we are almost to the surface,” Tobirama says, hand pressed against the stone. “Either that or it’s another cave, but it’s open space.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he mutters. He’s starting to scrap bottom and he doesn’t want to sleep in this tunnel unless he has to. Pushing against the stone, he shoves and shoves, mindlessly moving stone before with a sudden jarring movement, the stone suddenly gives way and before he can react, he’s tumbling out of the tunnel and plummeting.

A hand grips his ankle and his descent slows and finally stops. He looks up to see Tobirama holding him, hand gripping the stone with chakra. He looks down to see a very long fall and looks up towards the hole in the cliff face they just came through.

He sees the streaks of color from the late afternoon sun setting. “Oh thank gods,” he mutters, slowly reaching out towards the cliff face and grabbing handholds, using what little chakra he has left to stick to it better.

“Up or down?” Tobirama asks.

“I don’t care, just somewhere I can lie down,” he mutters.

“Down then,” Tobirama says, gauging the distance for both.

Slowly, they make their way down with a few rough moments but finally, they reach the cliff’s bottom and Izuna could cry at the breeze across his face. With a tired huff, he slumps to the ground. “If I never see a cave or a tunnel again, it will be too soon,” he mutters.

“I believe we are on the other side of the mountain the castle is built into,” Tobirama mutters, eyeing the cliff face that merges into the mountain behind it. They’re tucked into a small valley with steep walls.

“So long as I don’t have to see that damn castle, I’m good with that,” he mutters, enjoying what warmth there is remaining to the day as the sun finishes setting.

“I’ll start a fire,” Tobirama announces, standing up.

“You know, you can leave. Our temporary truce is done,” he says, opening one eye to glance up at the man. It’s a stupid thing to say when he’s on the edge of chakra exhaustion and so far from the Uchiha Compound.

Red eyes stare down at him, expression wiped clear. “It is nearly dark and I am not up to full strength. It would be prudent to maintain out truce until morning when we aren’t so weakened,” he decides.

“Fine,” he concedes, not wanting to question the man’s decision.

Keeping his ears trained for any sounds not being made by Tobirama, he lets his eyes close. Quickly, a fire is built and blazing between them, warming the steadily cooling air. This far north, the nights get cold fast.

He shares the last of his ration bars with him. “I’ll take first watch,” Tobirama offers and with a grunt, Izuna rolls into his blanket, exhaustion dragging at him and for the moment, willing to trust this man with his strange sense of honor to not stab him in the back…at least not tonight.

It seems he’s only just dropped off when a hand touches his ankle, a barely there brush, but it brings him to wakefulness in a hurry. Eyes snapping open, his Sharingan spins to life as he flicks a glance up at Tobirama, his back to him as he stares out into the darkness. “We’re not alone,” he murmurs, voice barely reaching his ears.

“Clean-up crew or coincidence?” he asks, slowly rising.

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Tobirama replies, slowly reaching to pull out his tanto. Neither of them is dressed in their usual armor, going for stealth over protection and their weapons are limited as well.

He prods his reserves and finds them somewhat replenished. He’s not going to be using any fancy jutsus tonight, but he’ll manage in the fight. “How many?” he asks, reaching for his own ninjato, the blade a reassuring comfort in his hand.

“Ten,” he murmurs. “They’re spreading out to surround us. Two are on the cliff behind us, six in the valley with us and two on the opposite cliff.”

“Anyone you recognize?” he asks.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Well, guess we should greet them,” he murmurs with a grin and they break apart, going low to the ground. He doesn’t hear a curse but the man he reaches first glares as he slashes at him, driving him back into the cliff behind him. He presses him, dodging a kunai and slicing against ribs before springing back, away from the three that come after him, putting space between them. With a grin, he moves through familiar seals and brings a hand up to his mouth. His fireball lights up the night.

~*~

The surge of heat behind him is familiar enough that he doesn’t flinch, trading blows with two different opponents that are trying to gang up on him. A third is closing in and he’s readying to unleash his water dragons on them when razor sharp wind comes howling through the valley. Hampered by his opponents, he doesn’t have time to brace before it slams into him and sends him flying.

He quickly turns his fall into a roll, coming to his feet, hands already moving and the water dragon roars through the air, striking two of the three and sending them crashing into the cliff, leaving craters and mangled bodies.

Ignoring the warmth blooming on his arm from torn skin, he ducks a volley of shuriken and darts toward the third, quickly getting under her guard and slicing into her stomach. The woman falls with a cry and doesn’t get up.

Turning to the next approaching chakra signature, he looks at the man towering over him. A huge axe hangs in his grip, easily carrying it like it weighs nothing. He doesn’t have the strength to take him head on. He’ll have to rely on his speed then.

Darting forward, he ducks under the first swing, jumping to strike and narrowly avoids a backswing, the man moving quicker than his bulk would suggest. Springing back, he adjusts and moves again, catching him in the thigh and jumping away.

Not quickly enough though, the back of the head of the axe smashing into his side, the blunt edge knocking the wind from his lungs. He feels a rib break under the impact as it sends him falling. He struggles to rise, gasping for air in lungs that struggle to work, pain lancing up his side with each gasp.

He’s not going to be fast enough, can already see the axe coming down, sharp blade aiming for his neck. He braces for the blow and is startled when a dark shape flies through the air, foot catching the axe on the head and knocking it off course so it embeds into the ground next to his head. “Get up, Senju,” Izuna growls, fire sparking again as he pushes the man back.

Fighting the pain and dizziness eating at him, he struggles to his feet, hands forming the seals for his water dragon as two more come at them and he lets it fly, already forming another set of seals as it snatches up the remaining two and the axe wielder in its maw, carrying them to the cliff face. With a wince, he draws on lightening, sending out a large arc to the tail end of his water dragon and lights it up. The smell of damp and charred flesh is not something pleasant to smell.

A low whistle breaks the silence that falls and he glances over to see Izuna staring at his handy work. He turns and glares at him, “You’ve been going easy on me,” he accuses, sounding put out.

Tobirama wants to roll his eyes at that but refrains, “That is an illogical conclusion. I haven’t done such an attack on you due to your speed and Sharingan. Also, my control over my Raiton is not as fine as it is over my Suiton and such an attack is meant for multiple targets. There is always the possibility of harming my clan if I did such an attack.”

Izuna glances around, noting the puddles and nods in understanding. He nudges a corpse with his toe, turning it over. “No clan markings,” he murmurs.

“They were probably clanless mercenaries hired through a third party as we were,” Tobirama murmurs, grimacing as he reaches into his pouch for his first aid kit. He’s got at least one broken rib and he needs to bind his chest before moving, least he end up puncturing a lung.

Izuna, seeing his objective, sighs in annoyance but comes closer. “Don’t kill me,” he mutters, offering his hand for the roll of clothe bandages. Ignoring his words, he hands the bandages over and strips out of his dark kimono top and the mesh shirt underneath follows. Gritting his teeth, he allows his rival to begin wrapping his ribs, ears ringing faintly with each sharp tug as he binds it tight.

Finally, he finishes and Tobirama slowly pulls the mesh shirt back on with a wince, his top following. “We should not remain here,” he informs the brunette as he steps away. It’s quick work to place a hasty bandage over the gash on his arm, Izuna following with his own wounds.

“Stick together until we reach the border?” Izuna offers, eyes tracking the shadows thrown by their fire.

“That would be wise,” Tobirama agrees. “There’s no one close by,” he assures him.

“I’ll feel better when we’re away from this place,” he mutters. He agrees and quickly pulls some of the water from the surrounding earth to douse their fire. Finding south, they make their way further down the valley, eyes and ears trained.

Four hours later, they finally reach a familiar sight: the Naka River the separates their clans’ lands. Izuna quickly runs across the water before stopping and turning to look back at Tobirama. “This doesn’t change anything,” he calls out.

“I never expected you to change because of this,” he answers in turn, knowing full well his rival’s stubbornness. They stare at each other for a few seconds more and then almost in sync, they fade back into the trees on either side to make their way to their respective clan compounds.

~*~

Aniki is waiting for him as he nears home, dressed in his armor, gunbai slung over his back. “What took you so long?” he demands as Izuna jumps from the trees and lands in front of him. He takes in the bandages and exhaustion etched on his face and rushes up, hands gripping his shoulders. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” he assures, sinking into the tight hug his brother pulls him into. “It was a trap,” he finally relents at the silent stare he can feel boring into the top of his head.

“Anyone left alive?” he finally asks.

“They’re all dead except for the one who set the trap. I think someone is trying to take out our clan,” he admits.

“Senju?” he asks, hands tightening on his shoulders.

Izuna shakes his head, “No, someone new. The trap was meant for you.”

“No wonder you’re dead on your feet. Come on, let’s get you inside and looked at,” Madara grumbles but he can feel the fine tremor in his hands at the thought of someone laying a trap meant for him and his brother almost paying the price. Surprisingly, he refrains from mentioning the fact that Tobirama was there, caught in the same trap. Maybe later, he’ll tell him, but for now, he just wants a hot bath, something to eat other than ration bars and to sleep for the next few days. He lets Madara mother hen him as he herds Izuna into the compound and towards home at last.

~*~

No one is there to greet him as he staggers into his room. It’s to be expected, few even knowing he had been on this mission. His comings and goings are rarely noted as is his preference, but today…he would have liked someone to have at least been here, if only to scold him for being late.

Pushing the useless thoughts aside, he limps towards his bathing room, wanting to just be clean. He’ll need to get his ribs and head looked at by one of their healers soon, but the draw of cleaning off the rock dust from his skin is too tempting to pass up.

He feels a familiar chakra signature slip into his room but he ignores it for the moment, wiping dirt from his skin. He feels marginally better as he lets the clothe drop into the bowl of dirtied water. With a frown, he realizes he forgot to bring clean clothes in with him and with a huff; he marches out of the room half naked, ignoring Touka’s gaze as it takes in his tightly bound chest.

Finding one of his lighter yukatas, he slips it on, tying the obi with some difficulty, his ribs protesting the treatment. Finally, he turns to her, “I’m back,” he murmurs.

“Welcome home, cousin. Are you going to tell me why you look half dead or do I need to beat it out of you?” she asks conversationally, but her expression bodes nothing good if he tries to play this off as nothing. 

“The mission was a trap,” he finally relents, turning away.

“And,” she prods.

“And I took care of it. There was no object to retrieve, simply a trap that was meant for Anija that I barely managed to escape,” he says with a shrug and then grimaces when he’s painfully reminded why that is a bad idea.

A sharp hiss has him looking up to see Touka glaring daggers deeper into the building, where Butsuma is probably at. “And of course he took the job without looking deeper into it,” she snaps, hands fisted.

“I believe someone is aiming to take out our clan, other than the obvious,” he tacks on when she arches a brow.

“We’ll need to vet what jobs we take from now on. No more middlemen,” she huffs, standing from her casual sprawl to march up to him. “Come on, you need to see a healer.”

“My injuries can wait until a more reasonable hour. I won’t die from them,” he tries to reason as she places a firm hand on his back and gently begins to herd him from his room.

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not going to the main healers. Hashirama only just managed to get free of Butsuma and the Elder’s grasp and he’s sulking in his room at the tongue lashing they gave him for his talk of peace with the Uchiha. We’ll let him handle this,” she says, waving off his complaints.

“Peace might not be so horrible,” he defends his brother.

Touka stops and stares at him, “Who are you and what happened to Tobirama?” she demands, shocked.

“I am not an imbecile. Peace is always preferable to war, but I am too realistic to put all my money on Madara the way Anija does. But, if there is another clan trying to kill us, we can’t fight on two fronts. Not without taking more losses,” he explains.

“Well, just don’t let Butsuma or the Elders hear you spouting such nonsense,” she advises and he nods, allowing her to steer him towards the towering sense of new growth that is his brother’s chakra signature.

~*~

The blow comes from nowhere. One second, Tobirama is in front of him after throwing a slew of kunai at him, the next, pain erupts across his side as the paler man suddenly appears before him, faster than his Sharingan can follow.

He staggers and can’t keep the cry of pain from escaping as the paler man’s momentum carries him past Izuna until he stops some feet behind him. “Izuna!” Madara shouts, sounding frantic. Hands reach for him, patting him down, looking for an injury.

With a start, he realizes that he doesn’t feel any blood, no hot slide as it courses from his body. That blow should have rent him open, gutted him like a fish. Shakily, he feels where Madara is searching and feels no open wound, only the deep bruising pain of what is probably a cracked rib.

The sound of steel over bamboo has them both turning to see Tobirama sheathing his blade, expression cool, red eyes looking towards Izuna and actually meeting his gaze. “A life for a life,” he says simply before turning away. “Anija,” he calls to Hashirama who has finally caught up, “Try again.”

Hashirama, realizing some of what has transpired, turns to Madara, “Please, all I ask if the chance to talk, to try and find peace for our two clans. Do you want more people to die? If we keep fighting like this, nothing will ever change. Isn’t the thought of peace for your children and your grandchildren worth the pain of setting aside our bloody history and working toward something good for once?”

Madara stares at Hashirama for a long, drawn out moment, than his gaze turns towards Izuna. “Otouto,” he murmurs.

Izuna looks to Hashirama, earnest and sincere, to the Senju clan spread out behind him, watching them warily, and exhaustion evident on their frames. Eventually, he settles on the lone figure off to the side. He knows, without a doubt, that he should be dead or dying right now. That blow, that speed, should have done him in, but Tobirama, with his strange sense of honor and his brilliant mind, had remembered a moment, from years before, a single action, a life saved when Izuna could have just as easily let him die. And he returned it, a life debt he never forgot.

Izuna looks to Madara and sees the same exhaustion mirrored in his brother’s eyes. How has he never noticed it until now? How long has his brother been fighting because he refused to accept that the Senju might actually want peace? Swallowing that bitter realization, he nods, “I’ll back whatever you decide, Aniki.”

Shock and relief passes over his brother’s face. A faint smile and a gentle squeeze to his shoulder shows his gratitude before Madara straightens, making sure Izuna can stand on his own before stepping away from him and towards Hashirama. “If you are willing to meet halfway, I can only do the same,” he agrees, offering his hand.

Hashirama’s eyes widen as he realizes Madara’s words and then a grin breaks across his face. “I can think of nothing better than peace between our clans,” he assures and grips his arm. A sigh of relief goes through the battle field from both sides.

Izuna looks back towards his rival and finds red eyes watching him. Tobirama smiles, a barely there lift of his lips, before he nods, just once and turns towards a dark haired woman who comes over to him, her naginata clutched in one hand as she proceeds to scold him softly.

Maybe peace won’t be all bad.

**End.**


End file.
